Sadness and Happiness form Destiny
by AnimeKeepsBreathing
Summary: Neville is alone, and he knows he always will be...even when people acknowledge him for the person he is not. But then, Draco Malfoy might just shine the sun.
1. Outside Looking In

Wow, TEN PAGES LONG! amazing for a one-shot of mine! There is a smut scene in this, beware. Based on "Outside Looking In" by Jordan Pruitt.  
I hope you like it! I'm proud of myself xD This is what i give to my readers, since im not going to be on the computer on a week(going to DC/Phili/ Boltimore)

* * *

Outside Looking In

_You don't know my name_

_you don't know anything about me_

_I try to play nice_

_I want to be in your game_

**(Place: Quidditch Field)**

Neville sighed, he knew he wasn't going to get picked.

Carrie looked between Neville and a boy right beside him; a boy scrawnier, small minded-er, better-er. Carrie turned to never. "Er...sorry whatever-your-face-is, but I'm going with the other guy" Neville shrugged, turning before he could look at Harry's pitiful expression. He didn't want it. He didn't need it. Neville didn't understand why people didn't like him; now, in their fifth year, Neville had gotten taller and he has a nice four-pack. He's not less-clumsier, but he is less-stupider.

Neville had waned to be in the game extremely bad actually, but he had little hope that he would. Neville had even removed his sweater-vest to show it. Neville was also a fast runner; he had to be to get away from the wrath of Slytherins.

But Neville didn't get chosen; like he knew.

_The things that you say_

_You may think I never hear about them_

_But word travels fast_

_I'm telling you to your face_

_I'm standing here behind your back_

**(Place: Halls; Potions Room)**

"Hey, look at Toad Face over there!," Neville heard someone whisper and point at him. He wasn't blind or death; they must be stupid. Neville didn't get what they meant though; he had lost all his baby fat in his body, and now he was lean and toned—Aerobics was his secret. And Trevor the Toad no longer lived with him; Trevor had died in an unfortunate incident at the train station in the fourth year. Neville had found a midnight black owl on the roadside shortly after, and it was acting like it was just waiting for him to arrive. As soon as it's piercing golden eyes connected with Neville's green ones, it flew over to Neville and claimed him. So Neville didn't understand.

But Neville didn't quite get most of the unearthly rude comments they threw at him; he decided to ignore them, believing they weren't true.

But somehow, a certain Slytherin had got to him; Draco Malfoy.

It was on the way to potions. No it was _in _potions. Neville quickly grabbed a seat in the back. His favorite seat on the left side, in the last chair in the last table. Many slash marks were under the table—formed from when the potions master snape had angered him.

Neville had already set down his pack, and he realized today was a simple note day. He sighed and pulled out his glasses; he could never really see the board. His glasses were said to make him look extremely mature and cute—cuter then the simple black Emo hairstyle he had achieved over the summer. Apparently, Neville looked extremely intelligent and un-silly like with those glasses on.

Draco Malfoy had suddenly walked in; him and Blaise talking. They stopped when they saw Neville, and smirked together.

Neville usually had contacts, so he rarely showed his glasses. But his contacts had been trampled on by the Malfoy earlier. Damn him.

"Look at this," Malfoy sneered.

Neville tried to ignore him; he wasn't in the mood. He had just visited his parents the day earlier; they had a whiplash of mind trauma and he was aloud to leave the school to attend to them. He stayed their for a week, just staring at their lost faces, wondering what life would be like if they weren't like this. If that damn death eater hadn't......

"Go away," he said when Draco got closer to him. His mind was ticking away, ready to blow....

"How's dear ol' mum and dad been in the nut house?"

Neville exploded.

He found himself standing up, and his fist trembling in white hot anger. His knuckles burned; he had his Malfoy. Malfoy stared at him and shock, laying on the floor. Rivers of blood swam from his nose.

"Im not a little child you can joke and taunt freely!," Neville screamed in anger. He looked away from the Malfoy; to everyone in the class. They were staring at him, eyes wide. Surprised.....shocked.

"Stop expecting me to stand there and listen to you without doing anything....."

Their eyes widened larger; more mouths dropped.

The fame quickly ended as Neville found himself being ordered to serve detention and twenty points of Gryffindor for physical assault of a student. Neville simply sighed a 'whatever' and sat down.

His heart was thrumming against his rib cage.

He was proud of himself.

_You don't know how it feels_

_To be outside the crowd_

_You don't know what it's like_

_To be left out_

_And you don't know how it feels_

_To be your own best friend on the outside looking in_

**(Place: Library)**

'They wouldn't know,' Neville thought bitterly as he organized the potions books in the library in A-B-C order. It wasn't much of a punishment; Neville enjoyed organizing objects. Though he was a natural and untidy person, he took pleasure in directing objects to their correct position. He also liked reading, even if he couldn't remember one teensy bit about it—if you exclude Herbology etymology and other topics related to plants and funguses and trees.

'They don't understand' Neville's mind examined again, and Neville found himself thinking the situation over and over again—even if he didn't want to.

He felt anger surge in him and he launched a book at the shelf, causing many books to trample over him.

He ignored them, rage boiling inside his core, overwhelming him like hot molten lava washing down the volcano's earth body.

'They will never know! How would they feel if they had no friends; no life; no sibling; no damn parents!'

Neville stopped himself immediately; he was wrong.

Neville shuddered, feeling limp—as if he had gotten hit in the face extremely hard. How dare he say that?

He _had _parents. He had strong, brace, proud parents......

Neville sighed once more and began reorganizing the books. He hoped to keep away from the topic again. He just wanted to finish this and get it over. Though it wasn't a 'priority' After all, Neville had no life.

No loved him(take away grammy and beautiful parents). No one liked him. No enjoyed his presence. No one saw him as anything. Not special, not annoying. Just there. Standing.

But they didn't know......

Neville mentally groaned as he felt the topic re-approach. He tried to shove it away, but his self-pity mind was just trying to make up an excuse to why Neville was like this.

They've always had friends; a functional family. They've always had money; attention. Ron couldn't complain how he didn't get enough attention; he did. He didn't know it, but he did. There was a secret fan group that always hovered over him; his parents took extra interest in him. And Ron had Harry Potter, the special one.

So they didn't know. They didn't know what it felt like to be sitting their watching them walk through the halls, filled with pride, their chins high. They didn't realize there was a bystander, separated from the crowd, just watching; wishing to be in it.

Once Neville was done sorting, he leans back against the wall, waiting for Snape to come back and check his work. Even Snape didn't find interest in the boy—to leave him alone during detention; to _trust _him to be a good boy.

Neville curled in a ball. He pulled his knees against his chest tightly and wrapped himself in his own arms, taking in the warmth.

He didn't need a friends warmth; he had his own.

_If you could read my mind_

_You might see more of me that meets the eye _

**(Place: Herbology Room; Quidditch arena)**

Neville set down his quill, taking in the full beauty of the flower in front of him. It was so delicate; it's full orange leaves stuck out promiscuously, they were bright, as if to shed light on any darkness that dare near approach it. It's long yellow stigma stood out from the center, gleaming with wetness. It's sun-like pollen stuck to it; clung. The stem of the flower was long and narrow, and it ranged high against the glass it was confined in.

Neville carefully reached out and stroke it. The flower shuddered in pleasure, causing pollen to spring delightfully in the air. It slowly floated down to the table or floated away. Neville smiled, amazed at its beauty. Or some of the pollen could have gotten into his system; damn that smiling pollen.

After finishing his extra-credit herbology assignment, Neville found his arse on the ground in the center of the quidditch arena, staring at the clouds that delightfully moved across the sky.

So free, he thought, a little resentment soaking each word.

He wished he could be like that; carefree, willing to go anyway the wind takes it. It simply doesn't care as long as its moving. It likes moving. It doesn't care what people think it is either, because it's so free there was no point to care.

Neville didn't want to cry, so he didn't. He did manage to feel wetness soak his ducts though.

He wasn't who people though he was; he was different.

He was not that first impression. He was not an open book to your free reading, and when you got bored, just simply dump it in a trash bin or throw it in a dark, damp closet and never look at it again.

Neville was something—someone. He had a purpose in life, he just had to find it.

Neville's not an idiot, not a clumsy daft stupid waste of flesh and magic. He was intelligent and heart-ful. He cared of other people, even if they did not care for him.

Neville had to be strong; had to fight.

This was his battle, and his alone.

_And you've been all wrong_

_Not who you think I am_

_You've never given me a chance_

**(Place: The Great Hall)**

Neville wasn't important. He wasn't special. He wasn't worth the time. He was just there, being there, knowing there, standing there.

He had no enemies, which meant he also had no friend either. No friends except his grandma, his two bed-ridden parents, and Senna, his midnight colored owl friend.

He was just there to be there; nothing else. No one picked on him really, just the rude comments from time to time. But it was extremely rare to see Neville get beat up. Neville wasn't worth the time. It was only when Theodore Nott was not in disposable use when they turned to Neville.

Neville Longbottom had a fine, average, normal life in front of him.

So why, oh god why, was he trying to get noticed?

It was a regular day; lunch was being served. Neville had only had a roll—he was not specifically in the mood for sweet treats and nutrience.

Neville sat up from the table, and like usual, no one noticed him. He shook his head, realizing how pathetic and choosing to ignore that fact, and began his descent to the large doors of the great hall.

He wanted freedom. It was to humid and close in the room, even though it was so large. He felt claustrophobic.

On his way out, Neville accidently smashed into someone, causing him to gasp in surprise.

He shoulder ached with pain, and he hoped it wasn't the same for the other end. How could he be so clumsy?!

Back Neville was taken a-back when he realized it wasn't who he thought it was. He thought it would be an innocent second year; but he was sadly mistaken.

It was beautiful and holly Draco Malfoy, blocking his way out.

Neville gritted his teeth in anger. Not again...... "What do you want Draco?," He asked curtly.

The younger malfoy sneered at him. "Are you trying to be the next potter?," he said in mock.

Embarrassment flooded through Neville, heating his cheeks to a cherry-red flush. Then, the embarrassment was replaced with anger. He felt like slamming Draco into a wall and beating the crap out of him.

Neville's body trembled in anger as he tried to hold back. It shook. Neville ground his teeth, and he could have sworn he heard a crack.

"Don't you _ever _say that to me again!," Neville bellowed. And he couldn't help the next part. "You filthy, cruel, disgusting, revolting _Death Eater!_"

'Death Eater' echoed in the dead silent room; it bounced of the walls and repeated fainter and fainter.

Neville pushed past Draco—his hand slamming into Draco's shoulder with such hard force it caused Draco to stumble before regaining himself—and left the Great Hall.

_You don't know how it feels_

_To be outside the crowd_

_You don't know what it's like_

_To be left out_

_And you don't know how it feels_

_To be your own best friend on the outside looking in_

**(Place: Gryffindor Common Room Bathroom) **

'I wouldn't want to be like them in the first place,' Neville thought as he began to strip in the Gryffindor Bathroom. He didn't know why Malfoy always got to him. After all, Malfoy was.....a Malfoy. He was going to sneer, he was going to joke. Everyone knew that, and most just ignored it. By why couldn't he?

It was annoying.

Neville turned on the shower as high as it could go. When he walked in, it was steaming. It hit against his skin, and it felt like _lava_. Neville immediately jerked away from it, but he didn't There was something about it that made him feel strong; better.

He stared at his faint reflection, just letting the exploding hot water pelt his skin, burning it. His featured were red and bright, his blood was tingling and it felt like it would burst out his skin. He half wished he had brought some ice up there to chew on, but he never did that, and his wand was gone.

As Neville thought back to the previous days and years, he noticed how much he looked at the younger Malfoy. His eyes always seemed to plaster on the silver haired boy, take him in. Draco always had friends; a group. And with out him he would be nothing. But he had them, so that was it. He had perfect white teeth and long blonde-ish silver hair that glowed. His skin shimmered, and he had outstanding grey eyes that could either be soft and welcoming, cold and hateful, or mischievous and trouble-like. Neville usually saw the last or second. The first choice was rare.

Sometimes, Neville wished he could be Draco. It was like he admired him. Draco just had a group, a unit that surrounded him. It cared for him; nurtured him. He has always been popular due to his name.

Neville had a name; a good name. He loved his last name. He is proud of it. People may joke it, and sometimes(most times) Neville listens to them, but he wouldn't change his name for the world.

He admires the name actually; he takes plume in the fact that his parents did what they did, survived how they did.

But no one listened to his name. Not even the teachers.

Draco is smart and un-clumsy and sneaky. He knows how to get around things, start things, and win things.

Neville is clumsy and forgetful. And that just ruins it all. Maybe that's why he has no group.

And he wants to be in a group. He wishes that people will see him for who he truly is, not the geek that was stuck in the first year to the third.

Neville had changed just like the rest of them.

Neville sighed a groaning tone. He always dreaded on Malfoy to much.

Malfoy.......

Neville, light headed from the steaming water, began to blush. His hands traveled down his body. His lean, toned body. He had a good body. A body that would be great in a group. He went down to his thighs and came back up, his eyes gently closing as sensation went through him.

Neville's fingers played against his chest, lightly padding it. Neville was a very sensitive person; _extremely _sensitive.

He bit his bottom lip when he came to his already-hard nipples. Letting out a hitched breath, Neville leaned against the tiled bathroom walls. He started playing with hit nipples, tweaking them, massaging them.

He felt hardness take over his erection, and a wave of pleasure wash through him.

With his right hand, Neville left his pink nub and went down to his flushed erection.

He started pumping it steadily in synchronization with every pull of his nipple.

Neville let out soft moans that gradually became louder and lustier.

As Neville felt himself tighten, he pumped his length with a fastness you wouldn't believe, now rejoined by two hands.

As he ejaculated, he thought of Malfoy. Malfoy and his rare bright smile.

_Well, I'm tired of staying at home_

_I'm bored and all alone_

_I'm sick of wasting all my time_

**(Place: Gryffindor Boys Dorm; Great Hall; Dumbledore's office; Halls; Herbology class; Potions class; Defense Against The Dark Arts Class; Hall; Hall)**

Neville had come to a decision that night. He laid there, thinking of Malfoy, thinking of groups that he would never be in, thinking of his name, thinking of his life.

Neville had to do something to be out there; he couldn't stand being last person. No person, actually.

Neville _was _someone, he just had show it.

Today he would be different. He would get in trouble, he would do jokes. He would do perfect in Potions, he would fail the Herbology test. He would make a commotion.

Neville, set down his food. He only had wanted some watermelon anyway. Under his desk was his wand, which he fumbled with.

Neville had gotten a lot better in casting spells; he taught himself over the summer.

"Incendio!," he whispered. Suddenly, their was a bright flairs across the room as the torches lit on fire. They literally exploded with strength, like a bomb. A loud 'crack!' sang through the hall, and everyone screamed, taking cover.

Neville smiled, and pointed his want at the teachers table, who were inspecting the crowds, frantic.

Neville said a spell and all items and food that were on the teachers table was wiped clean off the table to where it felt on the teachers laps.

Neville smiled wider, on a roll.

Still under the table, he pointed his wand at a Ravenclaw.

"Densaugeo"

The ravenclaw female let out a high pitched scream as her teeth began to grow, making her face resemble a beaver.

Tears leaked out of her eyes as she ran out the hall, sobbing.

"Are you done, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville's head snapped up to the teachers table at his name. His smirk quickly faded. 'Oh no' was the only thing he could think of.

Dumbledore stared right at him, his eyes boring into Neville's.

Neville was white with fear.

Now, everyone was staring at Neville, shocked. They weren't even angry, just shocked.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Neville saw Snape suddenly appear. Snape grabbed Neville by the arm, mumbling words.

Neville knew where he was headed, Dumbledore's study.

But then Neville smiled. This was who he was.

Neville ended up with one day detention, which slightly disappointed the teen. He actually argued about it.

"Why is it just one day?," He asked bitterly. "If Malfoy had done it he would have been a month!"

The headmaster leaned back in his chair, inspecting the teen carefully. Then, he said, "You are a very good student, Mr. Longbottom. You rarely get in trouble. is one who often gets in to misfits. That is why, Neville."

Neville glared at him, and then 'whatever'ed' turning on his heel and walking out the office—slamming the door shut.

Neville took a graffiti can out his back pack; it was bright orange color. If this was what it took to get noticed, he would do it.

He started coloring the stone walls—zigzag—as he walked down the halls. He didn't even stop walking; neither did he look. He just stared strait forward, spraying the color on the wall as he walked.

When the can was all finished, he burned it with Incendio—his finger still burned from when the fire touched—and threw it away in a trash can after it was mostly burned off.

Neville, not looking back, made his way to herbology.

All throughout the test, Neville made sure that he circled the wrong answers. He knew all of them, he _would've _gotten an A. But no, he did not want to be the geek-herbo. Today was noticing day.

Pomora gave him her most disappointed look she had ever given him that day as she set the paper down; a big fat F was on it.

That caused gasps.

Snape stared at him. Just stared. Neville was afraid, but he didn't show it—most of it. He stared back, looking strait into the professor's eyes.

A violet potion lay in a glass with a wood stopped on top. It had been a lust potion to make.

And a lust potion is violet.

Snape thought he cheated; of course. Neville never got anything right in his class—it was failure after failure.

Suddenly, Snape snatched up the potion and walked back to his desk, setting it on the corner.

Neville sat back down, knowing he'd won. He felt looks and fingers.

"Is that even Neville?!," he heard someone whisper.

'Yes,' Neville thought, 'this is me.'

It was during Defense Against The Dark Arts when a teacher came bolting in. Professor Len looked up, surprised.

Professor. McG ran in, a deep glare on her face.

She immediately walked over to Neville and grabbed his arm. "Please come with me, Mr. Longbottom," she growled.

'Yes!,' Neville thought triumphantly as he walked out of the class and down the halls forcefully.

"You do understand, Mr. Longbottom, that this could call expulsion?," Miss. McG asked, her tone worried.

Neville nodded. He actually did not know that it did, but he really didn't care at this point. "I do, Professor."

"Then why are you doing it?," she said, pointing at the graffiti on the wall.

Neville shrugged.

The professor's eyes narrowed—like a cat. "A weeks detention, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville's mouth dropped in anger. "W-why?! Why not a month?!"

Miss. McG just sighed, shaking her head. "Please return to class, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville seemed to be the chatter of the day; everyone was talking about him. About what he did to the walls, what he did at breakfast, how he failed a Herbology test, how he aced a potion.

Though some rumors got pretty wild, like him punching Minerva in the face.

But as Neville made his way to lunch, it felt like this weight had been lifted of his shoulders, and he was proud.

_You don't know how it feels_

_To be outside the crowd_

_You don't know what it's like_

_To be left out_

_And you don't know how it feels_

_To be your own best friend on the outside looking in_

**(Place: Quidditch Field) **

Neville was on the field, reading a book. He watched as the Gryffindor 's played muggle base-ball. So really, he wasn't reading.

Neville had detention again that night: cleaning all the pots and pans and dishes and silver wear in the kitchen. Neville didn't mind, he was used to cleaning up things from his parents. He offered to do it at Saint Mungo's.

Neville's glory days were not over. Many people talked and talked about him and rumors were on the rage.

Neville didn't mind.

Neville watched them play, and he silently wished he could too. Neville, despite how clumsy he was, was an excellent runner—he _did _have long legs— and aerobics had made his arms strong.

As long as the ball came in contact with the bat, he was sure to get a home run.

Unless he tripped.

Neville looked down to his book again, feeling hateful once more.

He didn't like feeling hateful; Neville was a naturally cheery guy.

Neville dealt with things that people couldn't deal with; Neville put up with things people would explode with.

Neville was a loner—he kept everything inside. He had no friends to share it with anyway.

He only had him and himself.

Neville wasn't sure he even wanted to put his trust in a group—last time he trusted a group it ended up horribly.

Many tears were shed.

But Neville's heart—his subconscious—, without Neville even realizing it, was yearning. It needed a group. A friend.

Neville, unable to concentrate any longer, shut the book and set it to the side. He looked up at those clouds; those free, non-caring clouds.

Beautiful and light.

They were among their kind; other clouds. If there was one cloud, there was sure to be another.

Even those free, beautiful clouds had a group.

And Neville, Neville just had no o—

Pain suddenly racked Neville's chest and he gasped at the sting. He looked down to see a baseball in his lap, still wobbling.

Neville stared at it, and then looked up.

The team was waiting for him to give it back.

As the pain slowly subsided, Neville grabbed the ball and flung it to Harry.

Harry caught the ball perfectly.

He stared at Neville, surprised.

Then, he smiled, holding out his hand and motioning for Neville to come join them.

Neville stared, eyes wide. No way could they be letting him play with them.....with the group.

But when Harry motioned again, Neville knew they wanted him to play.

They wanted him to be in the group.

_You don't know how it feels_

_To be outside the crowd_

_You don't know what it's like_

_To be left out_

_And you don't know how it feels_

_To be your own best friend on the outside looking in_

**(Place: Great Hall; Gryffindor Common Room- Boys dorm; Roof)**

Neville was eating dinner, pondering about the day before. They had excepted him; let him in.

It was a big blow to Neville, and he didn't know if it was a bad blow, or good blow.

Neville was....Neville. He was shy, clumsy, and forgetful. They were....normal. You could see their good points better then their bad points—if they even _had _bad points.

All you saw in Neville was bad points. Nothing came good from Neville.

Neville, like said before, was a loner. He lived outside the crowd. His only friend was him.

Neville shook his head, standing up.

He was brewing a very strong ache in his head, and he would rather rest in a quite place then in a rowdy one.

Neville never really like loud places any way. Loud places had groups.

And Neville, not knowing now if he was in a group or not, could not stand it.

He walked out the Great Hall—receiving an _almost _silence— and then through the halls to the Gryffindor Common Room.

He remembered the password perfectly. It was the only one he could remember in all his before years.

"Clumsy," he whispered.

The door swung open, revealing him to the red and gold room. He walked in and then went to his dorm room.

Immediately upon entrance, his owl flew over to him, landing on his arm.

Neville pet it gladly. He loved his owl. He ordered the bird to let go him, which it did.

Neville opened the window closest to his bed, and the owl flew out.

It stopped and looked back at him with its golden eyes, but after Neville nodded for it to leave, it did.

Neville began to climb out the window. There was no slant roof under the window, so he had to be careful. If he let go, he would fall to his death.

But Neville wasn't that scared like he used to be. During the first year, he had almost let go and he only climbed out of it when the day was truly bad.

But as Neville grew sturdier, he could hold onto it tighter and his aerobics lessons made his body able to stretch more.

Neville held tight to the window sill as he slid across the schools wall. He told himself not to look down, but of course he did.

It was a long way. Very long.

A bead of sweat ran down his forehead as he slung his legs over to the sill when he had a sturdy hold.

His feat caught, and Neville pushed himself upward. When he was sure he wouldn't fall, he let go cautiously and then grabbed a brick and started to switch his body potion so that his feet were first and not his head.

Then, he was perfectly on the roof.

Neville sighed.

It was a hot, humid day.

He didn't look up to the clouds—he had no wish to feel disappointed again.

But he did anyway.

Was he part of a group now? Or were they just mocking him?

They never knew how it felt to be alone, then get picked up, and then get dumped.

They were too cool for that.

Neville wasn't cool. He was no one.

If the group _did _accept him, then that would be quite a miracle.

Because, no matter what, Neville was his own friend, wondering on the outside, just looking in.

**End**


	2. As It Should Be

**Sorry for grammar mistakes and spelling issues**! **BIG** sex scene; so big its unbelievable. Ten pages, just like the last one! YAY! Im so proud of by skills!!!! **Review and Review! ^_- **It's the sequel to the chapter before; i make allot of sequels for the story xD **Remeber**: _**BIG SEX SCENE (between Draco and Neville) **_

* * *

**As It Should Be **

* * *

Neville walked back to the Gryffindor house slowly, bitterly thinking of how that night was his last night of detention.

What made Neville seem so kind and innocent? He wasn't one bit! Neville was a soul of emotions that ranged from bitter cold hate to resentful rudeness towards the society. He rarely was happy and he never _frolicked_ _with glee_.

Neville was an outcast which forced him to keep all his emotions inside; to never release them in front of anyone.

He had to be strong, but really, he was just weak.

Like how he couldn't stick up for himself in a bad situation.

Like how he forced himself to ignore the rude comments.

Like how he still couldn't approach Draco Malfoy about his unedifying love for the Death Eater.

Neville sighed deeply. Will he ever stop thinking of Draco?

It's almost impossible.

Draco is so beautiful. His pale, smooth skin that gleams in the light. His bright smile where every tooth shines like a new-born star. His blonde-ish-silver hair that is so perfect and long it looks like its unicorn hair. His grey eyes that glow with emotion.

And oh, that beautiful body that he holds beneath his newly bought cloak. Every muscle outlined and perfect, just right for his lean body.

Neville felt like banging his head on the wall.

Stop. Thinking. Of. Him!

But it was hopeless. Neville's mind would always think back to the unblemished Malfoy.

* * *

Harry Potter stared down to the piece of parchment on the desk in front of him, eyes wide.

But he wasn't the only one.

It might have been the whole school doing the same thing he was doing, but with how Harry was only in Transfiguration right now, he couldn't tell.

But he was almost sure.

Who wouldn't gape down at this sheet?

Almost at the same time as his classmates, Harry looked up to see Neville's desk, though the boy was gone. Having left for his grandmothers funeral, Neville had missed what had just been set out to the class.

They stared at the desk for a long time, unable to speak. How could this boy...this _outcast_...beat him? Beat Harry Potter!

Had there been a mis-quill?

But no; Dumbledore had written this _himself_, and in all the years of Hogwarts, there had never been a mistake in the line.

Harry was speechless; possibly angry.

Finally, someone spoke: "Wow."

Wow indeed; This paper was a pole of a sort. It was the three hottest males in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

**Top Three Sexiest Males In Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry **

_1. Neville Longbottom _

_2. Harry Potter _

_3. Ronald Weasley / Draco Malfoy_

Beside the writing was a picture of Neville Longbottom. But the picture was rather odd; Neville was in the Quidditch field alone. He had just walked on it, and he was looking around to see if anyone was there. Then, when he realized there wasn't, he set his backpack down and started to do the most miraculous things. The way his body moved in flexibility as he did one/none/two hand front and back flips was astonishing. His body curved into what muggles would call a 'bridge' and his body was perfect with the hand stands. It was like magic; his body moved so freely. And the way he smiled as he finished, standing there panting lightly. His shirt had been stripped before, now accompanying the backpack. His toned and lean body was _fine_. His muscles gleamed on his body; they stretched the right way; his chest rose and fell nicely as he breathed, and unfortunately, the way the camera was, you couldn't make out his nipples. A pity.

-

But how could this be so? How could this...._geek_....be so hot? Why hadn't they seen it?

The class remembered many times when Neville would take off his sweater vest, but they had never payed attention. The class remembered the day when Neville started speaking out, but that day had been locked in the back of their minds ever since Harry's dream of Voldemort.

And Neville so flexible? What would it be like to fuck him?

And that beautiful smile? What would it be like when he's lost in lust and passion? How would his cheeks spark? A deep shade of red or a bright pink?

Neville had their minds buzzing, and now, he was the center attention one more.

* * *

Draco sat in the back of class, twirling a lock of silver-blonde hair with his finger. _Now _there was competition?

What idiots the others were!

Were they so damn oblivious to the Longbottom that they couldn't see he had transformed?!

Draco had noticed the changing the moment it started; it was so _obvious_! How do you _not _notice that leaned and toned body? That rebellious side that had hooked on him?

He had _punched _the Malfoy!

He had been teasing Neville for a long time now, mostly because he loved the reaction of the newly formed being.

And with each reaction, came an emotion bottled up inside the male. He loved the light pink color that skimmed upon the pale skinned cheeks when he was embarrassed or angry.

Draco also enjoyed watching Neville walk away from someone; his had obviously never been fucked before; it would be so tight. And the heat....it would be unbearable.

Class was released and Draco walked out into the hall, quickly getting annoyed once out there.

'Look at his body!'

'It's _perfect _for him isn't it?!'

'Look how his muscles are toned! What the hell did he do?!'

'Man, he's gunna get fucked as soon as he comes back here!'

'I'll be the first one!'

'No! I'll be the first one! I deserve to see how tight and hot his ass is!'

Draco blinked, clenching his pack tighter.

Blaise was suddenly by him.

"Can you believe i—"

"SHUT UP!," Draco bellowed.

The hall became extremely quiet, and many faces turned to face him.

Draco shot demonic death glares back, and many scurried away instantly. Others just rolled their eyes and began gossiping once again.

Draco walked, keeping in silent fume.

_He _was the first.

* * *

Neville, dressed in a black suit, stared down at the grave. Tears gleamed, and all he wanted to do was ball his eyes out. He took short, hitched breathes as his heart pounded in his chest. He tried to ignore it; he didn't want to cry here.

This was his grandma; he couldn't cry in front of her anymore. He hadn't cried in front of her in a long time; Neville was a big boy, he could handle it.

Neville ran his trembling hands over the marble coffin, wanting to feel her; his grandma's warmth.

But all there was was coldness. Ending coldness.

Neville felt tears stream down his eyes, and he let out a shaky gasp. Then, he began sobbing. He tried to wipe away the tears; he tried to smile.

But the tears reformed quickly, and the smile was nothing. It wasn't cheering him up; it was making him sadder.

Neville stayed their for ten minutes, and then, he felt a moment where he wouldn't cry.

He took that moment swiftly, wiping away the tears and putting on a fake smile.

He turned around to where his parents sit in their wheel chairs, just staring at the site in front of them—not knowing even half of what was going on.

They stared at Neville, there eyes reaching some emotion.

"Let's go," Neville said softly. They simply stared back.

Neville let out a sigh. He searched around for flowers, and came across a bright orange and yellow and blue one.

It was glowing with pride and beauty.

Neville grabbed it and set on the grave.

Without a word or a last glance, he turned around and began pushing his parents back to the hospital.

* * *

Neville stayed dormant for that week.

He stayed with his parents in the hospital room. He refused to leave to another bed or room.

He stayed on the love-couch and stared either at his parents or the window.

When he got tired, he slept. When he awoke, he felt a blanket over top of him.

When he was hungry, he didn't eat. He wasn't hungry.

He rarely talked, and it was your special day to see him smile at you.

And it was a fake smile; it was obvious.

Neville didn't know what to think. Where would he go now? Now that his grandma was gone and his parents couldn't even care for themselves?

He had no home to go to.

He was officially alone.

Could he still go to Hogwarts?

Would they even accept him?

Would they just send him out on his own? Leave him to fend for his own?

Just die?

* * *

"Please come with me, ," Miss. McG almost whispered, setting out a hand for Neville to grab.

Neville ignored it. He jumped off the carriage and onto Hogwarts ground. looked over him for a moment, her eyes filled with remorse, then turned around and began walking.

Neville followed her into the school, his eyes planted on the stone ground. It was very late at night, so no one was awake and out in the halls.

Neville followed the professor to Dumbledore's office, where he met the headmaster at his desk.

Dumbledore ordered Professor McG to leave and Neville to sit down. They both complied.

Neville didn't feel comfortable in the seat at all, but that really didn't matter.

It was silent for many moments. Neville didn't want to talk. He just wanted to disappear—it was something he was so good at, why couldn't he do it now?

The Headmaster broke the silence. He picked up a bowl of yogurt covered raisins. "Would you like some?"

Neville shook his head. His intestines whined for nutrience after, but Neville ignored it.

It was silent for a little while more. Actually, more of a long while. It might have been five minutes. Maybe twenty. Maybe forty-five. Maybe an hour.

Time goes by when your head is empty and you just stare at something.

Then, "I am sorry about your grandmother."

Neville nodded once.

"I believe you have no other capable guardians?"

Neville nodded.

Dumbledore let out a large sigh, leaning back into his chair. It squeaked. "Troublesome....," he murmured.

Neville blinked slowly. "May i go to my dorm?," he said quietly.

He felt the headmaster's eyes gaze over him, then, "Oh, Yes. You must be tired. You are dismissed."

Neville nodded and stood up. He walked out of the Headmasters office and then into the halls.

It was extremely quiet, and Neville was glad. He didn't want in audience right now.

His heart hurt to much.

He just wanted to be reassured that everything would be okay. So his heart could stop hurting so much.

Neville was only half way to the common room when he felt a rush of nausea overcome him.

He grabbed onto the wall for support, and he slowly slid to the floor. The world started twisting and turning all around him, colors mashing together.

Neville's mind collapsed on him.

* * *

'Great,' Draco thought, looking down to the collapsed teen.

Wasn't this Draco's perfect day?

Draco sighed and picked up the boy bridle style.

Neville 'mf'ed, and his hands clenched onto Draco's shirt. Neville snuggled into Draco's chest, and he let out a relieved sigh.

He liked the warmth.

Draco wondered where he should take Neville.

He could be nice and give him back to Gryffindor, or he could be a natural Malfoy and take him back to Slytherin.

A most astonishing thing happened next.

Neville cuddled deeper into Draco chest and then: "Draco....," he whispered softly.

Draco's eyes widened in surprise, and then a demonic smirk crossed over Draco's mouth.

Slytherin's house it is.

* * *

Draco set Neville down on his king sized bed, and then got on top of him.

Neville's steady breath smelled of a minty peach—most likely from cough drops.

Draco stared down at Neville's beautiful face.

Draco would be the first. Draco would be the _only_.

Neville 'nuf'ed, and his eyes started opening slowly. He blinked sleepily, a few times—tears still coating his tear ducts— and then his eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Wh-where am —"

Neville's tired voice was cut off by a deep kiss.

Neville drew a sharp breathe in surprise, and Draco forced his tongue in.

Neville was slow to realize what was happening, but when he did, it was quite an astounding.

Neville's back pushed against the head board as Draco pushed harder and harder.

Neville brought his hand up and cupped Draco's face, kissing back.

Their tongue's tied together, saliva swishing around in their mouths.

They dipped into each others mouths, wanting to feel the full extent on what they could do.

Neville's heart was beating fast and hard, pounding against his skin. He didn't know what this lusty feeling was, but he liked it.

He liked Draco.

Neville's eyelids lowered in passion. Draco was so skilled. So good. It was like his tongue had learned from the master. Draco was the master. His master.

After many moments of sweet sounds of mouth fucking, they parted.

Neville, trying to calm down his rapid breathes—realizing that he had gone many minutes without a single mouthful of air— looked into Draco's beautiful grey eyes weakly, feeling as if Draco was too beautiful to look at.

A bright pink shade crossed Neville's cheeks, making him look like an angel.

Draco smirked. "You hide so many feelings inside you...," he murmured, "Why don't we spill those all out tonight?"

Neville's eyes widened and his breath hitched. Then, they lowered again and his breath became a barely-steady breath once again. "Y-you don't even l-like me....."

"Really now?," Draco said. "I've liked you for some time now, actually." Neville gasped, his eyes shooting up to stare at Draco with shock. He blinked and the tears that had coated his eyes finally fell over.

Draco grinned and pushed Neville back down. Neville began to say something but Draco put a finger to his pink lips. "Shh," he ordered. Neville gulped and nodded. "O–"

"Shh."

Neville blushed a deeper hint of pink.

Draco looked around for a tie-device, but couldn't so he just reached under his bed and pulled out a crimson colored ribbon.

He tied Neville's hands to the headboard. Neville stiffened at the first, obviously not liking the fact up being restrained.

But it wasn't up to him. It was up to Draco. And Draco got what he wanted.

Always.

Neville had already been stripped(except for his pants and boxers), so everything was all the easier. Draco ran a hand down Neville's abdomen as he kissed down Neville's neck line.

The kisses were small but frequent, and each caused a small gasp to escape Neville's lips. Draco noticed a very soft spot on Neville. It's between his shoulder and neck, and it's almost like a birthmark.

When Draco kissed it, Neville let out a loud moan. Draco raised an eyebrow, and he kissed it again, causing the same reaction to come out. This time, Draco nibbled at it softly. His tongue caressed it, lapping it with hot saliva. Neville's body tensed and untensed with each movement, and he groaned, a foggy pleasure sweeping over his mind. Draco suckled on that spot, and his nibbles became harder as they drew blood. Draco was quite a fan for blood. Neville's blood was sweet and rich; Draco suck it all up as his lips pulled in the skin tightly. When he was done, that soft spot was bright red and tingling Neville's body.

That was Draco's mark of possession.

Draco kissed down Neville's abdomen, his tongue trailing. He loved the feel of Neville's body. So soft and smooth, just like a baby. Neville may have toned out everything of his child days, but he sure as hell didn't loose the softness of it.

His skin was like water that even if you touch it, you couldn't disturb the smoothness.

His pale body was like fine silk—one which Draco would pay any amount of money for.

Draco leaned up to his straddling position, smirking. He looked at Neville's face.

Neville's eyes were shut tight and his face was the darkest shade of pink—the one that was just a simple shade away from red. Tears threatened to leak over the corners of his eyes, and his perfect eye brows were half between sexy lust of painfully cuteness. It was obvious was lost in pleasure. The tips of Neville's ear were gleaming with redness and they twitched with every caress of Draco's hand on his stomach. Neville's lips were parted slightly, revealing his now strait(Neville's grandmother had done a spell on them long ago when they realized they couldn't afford what muggles would call 'braces) white teeth.

Neville's hair was wet with sweat and some stuck to his face, though the brown cuteness was partially wild and gave Neville that rebellious look.

"You are too cute for your own good," Draco murmured.

"Ngh...?"

Draco smiled. "I don't even know if your cute anymore. Your too sexy to be cute."

Neville's back arched as he felt Draco cup his erection through the sheets and his pants. Neville moaned and then his back fell to the sheets once more.

Draco grinned, loving the reaction Neville was giving. He rubbed the fabric and the bulge became bigger and bigger, like a house.

Draco leaned back down and his tongue snuck over Neville's left, perked, pink nub. As soon as Draco's tongue lapped once around it, Neville's hips thrust up into Draco's rubbing hands.

He let out a loud moan, and Draco hoped everyone could hear all the sounds of him, the first one(an only) doing this to him.

Draco continued to nibble at the nipple, sucking on it as he rubbed Neville's clothed erection.

Neville thrust into his hand again and again, restless.

His stomach tingled with butterflies, and pleasure seeped through his body, filling every pore.

His mind was cloudy with lust and passion, and his mouth was unable to moan out all his feelings. It was, and is, unexplainable to have those cold hands caressing your body. The hot sticky tongue sucking on your skin. The perfect sized hands rubbing against your erection. The perfect, smooth words that filled your ears.

Neville pulled against the restraint, and he whimpered as he realized it was no use. He wanted more power in a situation like this, but Draco wouldn't have that. Draco sucked long and hard, and Neville feared he would come right then and there.

Neville was known for his sensitiveness, and he was surprised he hadn't come yet.

As Neville rolled his hips against Draco's hands, he knew if Draco didn't stop then, he would come.

Neville's body began to twitch as Draco continued, and Neville was trying his hardest to hold back.

"I-im g-g-going to c-cum!," he whispered frantically, hoping to save himself.

Draco smirked and then he stopped, leaning back up and looking to the boy.

Neville was slightly disappointed as he arousal went away; maybe he shouldn't have warned....

Draco ripped off the covers to reveal Neville pants, which looked like they were going to burst any moment.

Draco stared down at the gigantic budge, and smirked with excitement. Neville's pants had already unzipped completely, and the button was just about to release itself.

Draco bent down and lightly nudged the button and it flew open. Draco was shown white boxers.

Draco slowly began pulling down Neville's pants, torturing Neville.

Once the pants were off, all that was left was the boxers. But no, those couldn't go as fast as the pants had.

Draco placed a hand on Neville's thigh and rubbed it softly.

Neville groaned. "S-stop t-t-teasing m-me," he murmured helplessly.

Draco smirked and rubbed the area more; it was so close to Neville's erection it was no wonder why he was complaining.

But Draco couldn't play long; he knew this. Neville was too sensitive for that kind of work.

Draco didn't really mind; every second inched closer to the finally.

To Neville's great relief, Draco began to pull down his boxers, letting his erection breathe.

It was a great surprise to see Neville's 'little him' to Draco. Draco had always assumed it was tiny, but it wasn't. It was big; a perfect size for Neville.

"I didn't know you were this big Neville," Draco said, amused. "Maybe if the others knew this then they wouldn't call you such idiotic names."

Neville whimpered in reply.

Draco chuckled.

Still to innocent for his own good.

Draco took Neville's erection with a force; he gripped onto it and began stroking with a speed of a turtle.

Neville gasped, his eyes rolling back into his head. "...harder...ngh...hah..f-faster...."

A grin spread across Draco's mouth.

He remained at his speed, doing light strokes.

"P-please....?"

"Please what?"

"Ngh....p-please mas-master...?"

Draco's hand threatened to stop.

"PLEASE MASTER!," Neville screamed.

'Now _that _is how you beg,' Draco thought with amusement. Draco's hand began to stroke faster and harder, reaching all the way to the base and then jerking back.

Neville thrust into the movement, gasping with pleasure.

It was only moments later when Neville felt his balls tighten. His back arched and he let out a cry as he came.

Hot seed coated Draco's hand and his bed sheets and some of Neville's body.

Draco smirked he took his hand away and rubbed his thumb and index finger together, slowly spreading them apart and watching how sticky liquid stretched thinner as it still connected the two.

The sound Neville had made when he came; it was amazing. He hoped that one woke up the whole school. And Neville had produced allot more semen then Draco had certainly expected.

But Neville was always full of surprises.

Neville lay there panting heavily from all the energy just released, but as he watched Draco, he became hard once more.

Draco noticed this and smirked, running a finger along Neville's erection. "You're a whore aren't you?,"he whispered.

Neville whimpered, not knowing wether he was or not. Was he?

Suddenly, Draco leaned down and took Neville's erection into his mouth. Neville gasped, his eyes widening.

Draco's hot mouth sucked on his length, taking in the whole thing. His tongue pocked the tip, sucking on the pinkness.

Neville's face turned a smothering cherry red, and he groaned in pleasure.

His hips bucked to the heated saliva coating his cock, and all he wanted to do was scream out.

"Faster...faster..," he urged, his heart threatening to beat out his chest.

Draco complied, deciding he couldn't hold himself back.

"Oh yes...y-yes...so good....yes...so good...," Neville groaned, his mind lost in delight.

His wrists pulled against the ribbon weakly as his hips bucked in a steady rhythm of cock-sucking.

Draco began messaging Neville's balls, rolling them between his thumb and index finger.

Neville's body burned and he began to moan louder and louder, his breathes coming short to him.

Soon, he came into Draco with another loud cry fallowed by smaller ones, and tears streamed out of his eyes with pleasure.

Draco left Neville's pounding erection, having already drank Neville's sweet seed. He didn't know what it taste like. It wasn't salty or anything like that. It was slightly sweet, but it had an exotic feel to it.

But it was the most amazing thing ever Draco had ever tasted, and that's all that mattered.

Draco kissed Neville's soft spot on his neck softly, and in that same moment that Neville gasped in pleasure, Draco stuck his finger inside Neville.

Before Neville could react, Draco pulled it back out. It was tight as hell and there and it was like lava hot.

Draco liked it.

Neville felt the small pange of aftermath, so he let out a small whimper, but nothing more.

Draco had no need to tell Neville what was going on and what would happen soon next, mostly because Neville had enough common sense to know.

"A-are y-you sure?," Neville whispered.

"If i wasn't why would i do it?," Draco replied.

Neville didn't reply to that, momentarily embarrassed over his stupidity.

Draco grinned. He opened Neville's legs wide, and ordered Neville to order that position.

Neville nodded obediently.

"Good boy....," Draco muttered under his breath.

Neville heard and blushed redder then he already was.

Draco stared at Neville's puckering pink hole with interest. It was so beautiful and the way it was flinching made Draco want to enter it all the more.

Draco took his index finger and began lightly rubbing the area around it, not in the least surprised to hear Neville's silent gasps.

The skin was soft; softer then the other skin on Neville's body. Draco rubbed it fiercely, going up and down.

Then, his finger stopped at the hole, where he brushed it lightly. Neville's whole tried to eat up Draco's finger; suck it up. Literally.

Draco let a small amount of his finger in. Without a protest, it was consumed. Draco smiled, and stuck it in fully. It went all the way in, and still there was an endlessness. It was deeper then Draco had expected; of course.

Draco set another finger in.

Neville's walls gripped on his fingers tightly, burning them. Neville was practically on fire.

Draco began doing scissory motion, but Neville failed to stretch. The boy was just so tight....

Unable to handle his heart beating against his chest anymore, Draco unsheathed his cock.

Neville tried not to stare at it, but he couldn't help himself. It was so big and..beautiful.

Draco smirked. "Like what you see?"

Neville nodded, unable to produce words for what seemed like a holly object.

Neville found himself being flipped over and a rapid move. He gasped as his knees were forced to hold him up.

Draco parted Neville's legs to reveal once again the puckering pink hole.

His already extremely painfully erection jerked with excitement.

Draco sighed deeply, smirking.

"Don't be surprised—"

Draco shoved his cock inside Neville.

Neville cried out in pain.

"—if this hurts."

Painful tears stung in Neville's eyes as he let out a scream of agony.

It felt as if his body had been split in half.

Draco stayed, his erection completely inside Neville's anus, letting Neville get accustom to Draco inside him. He wouldn't wait long—it was only for the reason that he didn't want that much blood on his bed sheets.

Inside Neville was like heaven. The tightness made Draco want to burst; he felt like he was going to break in half. It was as hot as hell itself, and it burned Draco's erection.

It was _amazing_.

Neville clenched the sheets tightly as tears leaked out his eyes. 'I have to be strong for him. I'm not weak.'

Releasing a hitched breath, Neville said, "Y-you c-can ma-move."

Draco smirked, feeling Neville's trembling body against him.

He began fucking the boy, pulling his cock in and out of him. He felt like he was going to break in half, but it felt good. He could tell Neville was trying to calm down, and slowly, the tightness loosened, giving an easier passage.

Neville made many cries of pain in the beginning; it _hurt_. There was no way else to explain it.

But it was only a minute later when it started feeling good.

He _needed _it now. He couldn't live without it. He had to have it.

Neville thrust his head back, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Neville slammed his body against Draco's cock, helping with rhythm. "Moooore...," he groaned. "Ahh....more....so good....mooore...."

Draco grinned. His hand found Neville's length, and he began pumping it.

Neville screamed with joy, tears streaming out his eyes. His face took the darkest shade possible of red as tingles filled himself. His body trembled with excitement and pleasure.

Draco pumped Neville with the same rhythm of his fucking, feeling sensation in his body.

How much longer could he hold out?

Not that long.

Suddenly Neville let out his loudest cry.

_Found it_

Draco slammed against Neville's prostate, grinning.

It wasn't long till Neville started his loud moans of releasment.

"I'm....!I'm...!" he was unable to finish his sentence, words just to confusing for him to form in the heat.

Draco nodded, though he knew Neville couldn't see.

And only moments later, as their balls tightened on themselves, they both released at the same seconds.

...

Draco pulled out of Neville, panting. Semen filled Neville, and it was leaking out of his hole, mixed with blood, sliding down Neville's thighs.

Neville fell over, his knee's now to weak to support him.

His face was blank; he had fallen asleep.

Draco watched him sleep as his breath calmed down.

Then he sighed and smirked in amusement.

He untied Neville's wrists and set Neville's arms in a more comfortable position on his body.

It was a very good thing Draco had his own room.

Draco then left Neville for the bathroom; he definitely needed to wash.

As he closed the door, Neville's eyes opened.

A soft smile crossed his lips.

Everything was as it should be.

**End**


	3. EXTRA:Don't Mess With Possesions

TEN PAGES! WOOOO! FULL LIKE THE OTHERS! RAPE! EEEK! WATCH OUT! **Sorry for GRAMMAR MISTAKES and SPELLING ISSUES LIKE ALWAYS!!! **xD Remember, rape rape rape!ABUSE! ACK! EEK ACK! Thanks fo readin! REVIEW and FAVRITE and maybe ALERT!

**LOVE IT? LIKE IT? HATE IT? REVIEW ABOUT IT! **

* * *

**Don't Mess With Possessions **

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Neville ran to the fat lady, almost out of breath.

He had just had sex with Draco Malfoy, bathed with him, and slept with him.

It was about four in the morning, and soon the early birds would wake up.

Breakfast was served at six.

Neville's heart was beating insanely; he couldn't believe what had just happened to him.

Draco Malfoy.

His unedifying love!

But.......Draco was a Death Eater....

Neville slowed down his speed to a stop, and the wave of realization crashed against him, making him slightly nauseous.

What if....Draco was just messing with him? What if all Draco had wanted was a quick fuck?

Neville's eyes lowered and dismay.

Draco is a Death Eater. A servant of Voldemort. A _slave_. He sold his soul for power.

People just the same had ruined his parents; ruined his life. Death Eaters had destroyed Neville; crumbled his living existence.

Death Eaters made him a loner; made him weaker; made him the outcast in society.

And Draco Malfoy.....what if he just turned his back on Neville and ruined Neville's life more?

Neville had always tried to live the happy life. He smiled and bared it. Dealt with the issues.

He promised he would never let go of the world, even if he let go of everything else.

But Neville was up to his eyes with all of it. He was suffocating underneath it. But every second he found those little pockets of hope, keeping him from slitting his wrists.

So if Draco...or anyone...did anything more to Neville, Neville would officially shatter to rock bottom.

Now Neville was full of regret.

How could he do this? He's grandma, his _one _and only _fit_ guardian had just said asta lavista and is right now in wizard heaven, leaving him all alone.

She was gone and she wouldn't come back.

Shouldn't Neville be bawling his eyes out?

Neville has no reason to live anymore! He's practically _d. e. a. d _

So he goes and gets fucked by a Death Eater, one who had damned his family strait to the fiery cold pits of fucking hell!

Neville felt so shameful he couldn't bring himself to lift his head. He stared at the floor, eyes wide, all of his mistakes just washing over him.

How could Neville be...... spiteful?

Neville felt like crying now.

He was such a whore...a slut...

He didn't deserve to live.

He didn't deserve to wear his parents name.

Neville just wanted to crawl up in a ball and die.

He wanted to get slapped over and over again and told how stupid and disgraceful he was.

And as Neville thought those thoughts, he couldn't help but feel disgusting with himself.

His stomach twisted with sickening feelings, and he wanted to throw up—but luckily didn't.

Why didn't Neville want so much attention? What was this feeling inside Neville that wanted to actually be......known?

No.....loved....

Neville had never been a person to want to have attention. Sure he liked the sparks of it when it rarely came around, but he was fine as he was.

At least he wasn't loud and obnoxious _and _nerdy.

Those kids get scent to the nurses office for _months_.

But now Neville was changing. In his fifth year, Neville was feeling things he didn't want to feel.

Was it puberty?

Hormones?

Hormones, Neville thought with bitter taste.

How evil those vibrations were. They made Neville want to scream.

They were showing sides of Neville that Neville didn't even know about. Or more, sides Neville didn't quite like.

Neville blinked slowly, and then began walking up the stairs and halls again.

It was amazing how easily you could ruin a perfect feeling of joy with just thoughts.

Now, Neville felt simply _depressed_.

Neville came to the fat lady.

She was snoring. Loudly.

But most of the portraits were snoring. It rang through the halls; it was amazing how people didn't get awaked by this.

Neville could always hear them, and in the beginning of his first two years at hogwarts, he never got much sleep.

But Neville had thankfully found earplugs, and now he slept soundly through the night. Being a light sleeper though, he woke to the lightest feeling of something on the floor.

Anyway, Neville wondered how he should wake the Fat Lady without making her scream so much.

She often did that.

Neville stared at the Fat Lady for a while, watching her chest move up and down, and then sighed.

How could he disturb someone so peacefully enjoying their life....?

Neville took his finger and poked the Fat Lady's cheek.

The portrait lady gave many disgusting sounding snores and sniffs at it awoke. They were loud, and it made Neville cringe.

Then, the Fat Lady opened one eye blearily.

"Do you know what time it is?," she hissed.

"I know im so—"

"Im going to back to sleep," she growled, and she closed her eyes.

"No!," Neville screamed. Immediately, he clapped both hands over his mouth, blushing bright pink.

The Fat Lady irritably opened one eye. "Password?," she drawled.

"Troublesome," he whispered through parted fingers.

The Fat Lady sighed and then closed her eyes. "Good night."

"Wait—why!," Neville whisper screamed.

But the Fat Lady was already snoring.

Neville was about to break down right there and scream to the gods why they were treating him so.

But then, heaven shown upon his almost-cursed being.

With a creak, the door slowly opened.

There, revealed Harry Potter.

Harry's hair was messier then mess itself—like he had just woken up and stumbled to the door—almost tripping over the stairs.

He wasn't wearing a shirt; only his soft grey Lounge pants and same color boxers were visible.

Harry rubbed his eyes drearily. His wand was in the hand that had opened the door, stuck between the space dividing his thumb and index finger.

Harry yawned wide, his mouth opening and showing his white teeth like a cat would, and then snapped back shut.

"Is that you Neville?," he whispered, leaning back on one foot .

Neville nodded quickly. "Yes."

Harry stared at him for a while, running his eyes up and down Neville's body...as if checking the boy out. His eyes scanned hardest around Neville's chest plate and Neville's upper pant section—though Neville, of course, did not notice this.

Neville only notices Harry's eyes moving swiftly up and down him; Harry was most likely probably tying to see if Neville wasn't just a lying Slytherin or something.

Then, Harry smiled; his eyes seemed to brighten; now he was awake.

"Well stop standing out there like an idiot and get in here!," he whispered quickly, grinning wickedly.

Neville couldn't help but smile back. He walked in the Gryffindor Common room, and immediately, he shivered.

It wasn't cold; quite the rather. The fire was crackling and it was full on. The Common room was a perfect temperature; hot.

It was the realization of how cold it was outside that made Neville tremble as he switched to the different climate.

'It must've been cold in the dungeons too...,' Neville thought absently. But Draco had been there to warm him up.

A Death Eater.

Neville, now enveloped in shame, stood there, a few feet away from the fire, staring into it.

His mind flashed back to the feelings Malfoy had consumed him in; enclosed.

It made Neville tremble and shake, with some emotion he couldn't quite figure out.

The feelings of Draco's hands running up and down his thighs and stomach, caressing him with his large soft hands.

Cupping his crotch, rubbing it.....

Neville gasped, his body stiffening.

"Ha-harry....," he gasped.

Harry smirked against Neville's neck, kissing it delectably. He pressed his body firmly against Neville's.

Neville noticed the hardness pressing against his arse, and his breath hitched.

Harry squeezed Neville's crotch, messaging it. Harry rolled his hips against Neville, causing the teen to moan.

Harry was quite surprised to hear the slutty sounds. The way it had rolled off of Neville's tongue and into his ear—filled with lusty passion—the best passion anyone could ask for.

But Harry wasn't asking, he was taking.

And he definitely wanted to hear that sound again.

Harry's pushed Neville, who stumbled slightly and then caught himself on a wall—shoved between the meeting point of two. A corner.

Harry shoved his arms on each side of Neville's head, blocking him.

He leaned down to the teen, a sick smirk on his lips.

Neville starred back at him, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

He was afraid.

Harry smirked wider and kissed Neville's pink-tipped ears lightly, like a butterfly.

"I know your secret...," Harry whispered.

Neville's breath hitched.

"Everyone knows it. We know who you really are."

A noise squeaked out Neville's throat, making his eyes go wide with surprise.

Did he just...whimper to Harry Potter?

That noise flicked the aggressive side of Harry on like a light switch.

He attacked Neville's ear lobe, sucking on it harshly.

His bites were so hard it caused the skin to turn red with pain and tear. Harry sucked on it harder, loving the taste of Neville.

Neville made another mewl, and then his mouth was captured by Harry.

Harry was trying to stick his throat down Neville's mouth, but Neville refused to let his lips part for anyone but his lover.....for Draco.......

There was a sharp pain in Neville's gut, causing the boy to gasp.

Harry forced his tongue in, moving so sharply and quickly that it actually hurt.

His tongue was like a lion, while Neville's was like a sheep.

Harry's tongue lashed out at Neville's forcing Neville to almost choke.

Harry's tongue twisted with Neville's, dominating the sheep.

Harry kissed him hard, refusing to let the other breath.

Harry's hands stared running up and down Neville's sides, feeling him all over.

Neville didn't want this; he moaned into Harry's mouth with protest, but that didn't help—most likely made it worse.

Harry's hands finally broke into Neville's shirt, and they skidded across Neville's abdomen, as if they were inspecting.

Harry's finger pressed against Neville's abs, feeling for every curve. And just like in the news paper, Neville had all the correct muscles.

Neville's skin was baby soft against Harry's hand, and it had no such faulty on it.

Harry grip Neville tightly, rolling his hips against Neville's. forcing their erections to brush against each other with a force.

Neville moan as pleasure tingled inside him.

Once again, Neville was weak; powerless.

He was all too sensitive to fight back.

Harry had figured this; that's why he was loving it so much.

Neville tried to kiss back; did his best.

Harry enjoyed the effort, but he put Neville in place.

He showed the boy another round of lashed— like a whip on a tongue.

Neville needed to learn his place in bed, and that sure as hell wasn't on top.

Neville mewled against Harry, his eyelids lowering over his eyes.

_Draco..._he thought desperately. _Please help me....!_

Suddenly, Neville's shirt is getting ripped off the boys body; literally.

Harry ripped it into shreds as he didn't feel like leaving any part of Neville's sensitive body for something as docile as a shirt.

Neville groaned in protest, pressing weak hands against Harry's chest, trying to push him off.

Harry became angry as he departed from Neville's tender, now bruised and bleeding lips.

_SMACK!_

Harry's hands came across Neville's cheek with a force; it slapped against Neville's tone-ness, causing it to glow bright pink.

Tears swam over Neville's eyes.

Harry laughed; he loved the feeling of power now-a-days.

He started kissing ferociously down Neville's neck, taking in the beautiful fresh-soap scent and soft skin.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, just as he was about to kiss there, he saw something quite amazing.

He immediately leaned back, his eyes wide.

Right on his neck—the space that was between his shoulder and nape—was a bright red spot, about an inch-and-a-half wide and length.

"You whore...," he whispered. It was the only thing he could manage to do.

Neville stared at him in shock.

He had seen....Draco's mark....

"You're a whore...a whore.....a slutty bitch..."

Tears swam down Neville's cheeks as he listen to Harry talk like a mad person.

Suddenly, Harry's eyes connected with Neville, and Neville knew what was going to happen next.

Neville gasped in pain. He clutched his side, falling to the floor. He curled into a ball as Harry stuck him again and again with his foot.

"You're a whore you bitch! Bitch! Slut! Whore! Whore! Whore! Bitch!," he screamed, kicking Neville endlessly.

Neville curled into the tightest ball he could manage, trying to block out the pain that was being inflicted on him.

_Love_, he thought lastly, _Hurts_.

* * *

Neville slowly got up.

He held onto the chair arm for support, using all his upper body strength to pull up his weak body.

Harry had left a few minutes ago, leaving Neville alone to darkness.

'I deserved it,' Neville thought as he, almost immediately after standing, stumbled and caught himself on a wall only moment before falling flat on his face.

'I was going to let him do all those things to me...'

Neville squeezed one eye—his left—shut hard in pain as he tried to limp his was up the stairs.

He cradled his right arm; it was gushing out blood.

Harry had torn out allot of his skin, and many bruises were running along Neville's body.

Luckily, Neville had covered his face in his arms to keep any harm from happening there.

Bruises glossed over Neville's abs and arms; the spot where Draco had marked was cut up and bleeding.

Neville held onto the railing with all his might.

His hands were trembling, and even though it was warm, icy coldness licked his bones.

Neville stumbled into the boys bathroom.

It smelled of cinnamon and apples; they were apparently trying out a new air freshener.

The smell was more homey then what Slytherin's bathroom smelled like; Ice Mint.

Neville was suddenly now liking the Ice Mint more then the Apple Cinnamon.

Ice Mint felt like home; felt like Draco. His lover......hopefully.

No, Neville thought, his eyes lowering. He couldn't hope for the touch of Malfoy anymore.

He didn't deserve it.

Neville slowly walked over to the shower area and carefully turned the knob to a bath tub.

He set the temperature as high as it could go.

Steaming.

Neville sat on the side of the tub, waiting for the bath to fill.

He notices a trail of bloods foot prints was following him, and cursed.

He needs to either heal himself with a spell or go to madame Pomfrey.

Or....go see Draco.

Neville shook his head vigorously, which caused him to cry out in silent pain.

Neville sighed deeply.

Life...it hated him.

His family too.

But mostly him.

Neville didn't know what he did to make it hate him.

Neville was a good boy.

So why were all these bad things happening to him?

Did God really not want him to believe in him?

Neville's eyes narrowed.

He turned of the hot water, and paused.

His head was going foggy on him; woozy.

Then, it was like his main line disconnected from him.

"Shit...," he murmured.

There was a splash as he fell back into the too-hot water.

* * *

Dean hummed to himself as he felt a ray of sunshine hit his face.

He slowly got up, looking around his shared dorm.

Everyone was wrapped under their covers, sleeping.

Dean sighed and stood up, yawning.

He hopped against the floor for a while, trying to warm up the soles of his feet.

Damn how he hated cold floors....

Next Dead dropped to the floor in a split.

Dean happened to be flexible.

He took both arms and reach over to his left foot, grabbing the arch with his hands. He paused, breathing in and out of his nose.

Then he let out a tired sigh and switched to the other foot, stretching.

Soon, he felt mostly awake and stood up, shaking out his legs.

He walked out the dorm and down the hall to the bathrooms.

He yawned before opening the door.

A hot shower would be.......

Deans thoughts fell into a silence.

His eyes opened so wide they could've possibly fell out of their sockets, and his mouth almost touched the floor.

There in front of him, half consumed in water, lay Neville Longbottom.

His eyes were shut and his skin was pale as paper. He was covered in scratches and bruises.

He looked dead.

It took a while for a gasp to register in Dean's mouth.

Then, Dean found himself running back to the dorm.

He slammed the door open.

Many grunts sounded.

"SOMEONE GET HELP!," he screamed. "SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH NEVILLE!"

Many heads perked up to stare at him. They looked confused.

"What the bloody hell are you ranting about you git?," Ron said.

Dean gulped. _He _felt like he was going to faint.

He pointed towards the bathroom. "N-Neville!," he whispered.

The boys sighed in annoyance.

Ron was the first to get up. Harry was the last.

Ron followed dean, in irritated expression clear on his face.

Then, they were admitted to the boys room.

Ron had the same reaction as Dean. "Bloody hell....," he whispered, staring down at the badly abused teen.

Harry stayed in the back, almost glaring at Neville—though not showing it of course.

"I'll go get Miss. P," he offered, trying to sound like he actually cared about the slut...

"GO!," they yelled.

Harry rolled his eyes and quickly left.

Many girls were waking up due to the noise, and started coming out their dorms complaining.

They froze when they saw Neville.

Some even fainted.

Ron kneeled down and checked Neville's pulse.

It was barely detectable, but it was there.

His heart fluttered with happiness.

The boys ushered the girls out.

Neville was naked; only boys needed to see him.

Dean laid a towel down and Ron took Neville out and set the obviously abused boy on top.

He stared down at the teen for a while, and couldn't help but feel lust.

You could see strait through the bruises and cuts that Neville was drop dead beautiful.

He was so stupid not to notice it before.

Ron felt himself get hard and looked away.

He couldn't do it to Neville like this.

It would be so wrong...

Forcing himself to get a hold of himself, Ron grabbed a towel and laid it on top of Neville, covering his body.

And then, the door slammed open.

* * *

"GET OUT MY FUCKING WAY!," Draco screamed, pushing pass the Gryffindors.

Someone had hurt him.

_His _property.

Someone had (first of all) glanced at his property, (second of all) took interest in his property, (third of all) was stupid enough to _touch _his property, and (fourth of all) had the damn bloody nerve to _abuse __**HIS DAMN **__PROPERTY_

Who was it? It had to be a Gryffindor...

Oh bloody murder im going to kill them.....

Most of the Gryffindors shied away from Malfoy; it wasn't on there today-to-do-list to die with horrible pain.

Most were centered around the bathroom, but the door was closed.

Draco forced them apart and ripped open the door.

There stood Ronald and a few other boys, staring at Neville, who was covered with towels.

Oh god....

Ron looked up to Draco, and a look like fire appeared in his arms.

"DID YOU DO THIS TO HIM?!?!??!," Ron screamed at Draco, throwing a punch.

Draco's eyes narrowed, and he grabbed the Weasel by the wrist. "No i did not do thIS TO HIM! ONE OF YOU GRYFFINDORS DID IT! WHO WAS IT?! WAS IT YOU?!??!," he bellowed back to Ron.

They stood there glaring at each other.

But they could both see it in each others eyes.

Neither of them had done this damage to Neville.

Draco let go of Ron's hand and kneeled down to Neville, staring down at the boys beautiful face.

He took a chance a lifted the towel on top of him, only to bite his lip and quickly placed it back down.

Draco cupped Neville's cheek.

Oh Neville.......

Neville stirred, but then fell back into dreams. "Stop har...."

He didn't finished his sentence.

Suddenly, before Draco could do anything, he was getting pushed away.

He looked up to see madame Pomfrey.

_Help_, he said with half relief.

But then everything turned sour as Draco notices someone in the back of the room which was now full of many people.

This person had a mocking smirk on his face, and he stared down at Neville with lust mixed with hate.

He licked his lips, causing Draco to growl lowly.

The person noticed this, even though no one else did.

His eyes snapped to Draco's, and he smirked wider.

He licked his lips again; this time slower, more seductive like.

A raging storm filled Draco.

This person was Harry James Potter.

* * *

_God my head hurts...._

_But not as much as my stomach...._

_My stomach just hurts like it's being set on fire......._

_Fire hurts..._

_It burns......._

_Wait....._

_This really fucking feels like fire!_

Neville's eyes popped open and he tried sitting up, but he clutched his stomach in pain and fell back, hissing with pain. GOD DAMN YOU BONE REGROWER!

"Nice move."

Neville's eyes opened wide. He slid his head to the side. His head still honked at him loudly, but that really didn't matter right now.

What mattered right now was Draco.

Neville stared wide-eyes at the Death Eater.

He was speechless.

What _could _he say to Draco?

No words could explain how he felt...because Neville didn't even know how he felt.

Then, after many moments of silence, Neville choked out, "I-im sorry, D-draco."

There was a deep sigh from Draco. The Death Eater shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's fine. You can't help getting abused."

Neville felt sadness fill him, and it poured out of his eyes; literally.

He cried; sobbed.

"I'm so weak...," he choked. "I should've been able to fight him off.....i shouldn't have let him do all those things to me....*sob*...."

"You can't help being sensitive."

It became silent, except for Neville's sobs.

Neville couldn't explain what he was feeling right then.

He was curious as to why Draco was saying it was okay; slightly disappointed too. He was happy and depressed, but mostly, he was ashamed of himself.

"W-why are you being so nice to me?" Neville whispered.

Draco grinned, chuckling. "Do you really want to know?"

Neville raised an eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Draco grinned wider, holding out his index finger. "First reason: as soon as your well enough, your going to be consumed by a life of rough submitting sex."

Neville's mouth dropped.

Draco added his middle finger to his index. "Seconds reason: Dear 'ol Harry ain't looking to well right now."

Neville's mouth dropped as Draco pointed to a hospital bed on the far side of the wing.

It was covered, but Neville was sure that the person under it was not looking to well right now.

Neville looked back to Draco. "You didn't......"

Draco grinned, nodding. "I did."

* * *

***flashback* **

Draco hated it.

He wanted to kill him.

Kill that bastard who had hurt his Neville.

_His_.

Draco has been currently stalking Harry Potter, vowing to put the boy in the hospital for at least two months.

Harry, being Harry, didn't notice Draco one bit.

He was used to the glares; hell, he had some bloody idea that if he smirked back to them, it would make him seem tough.

Oh, but it didn't, i assure you.

As far as Draco's concerned, it only made him want to his the boy harder.

He would beat the shit out of Harry; for every centimeter he had moved on Neville, that deserved a punch.

For every kiss he gave Neville, that deserved a kick.

As you could see, Harry was going to get it rough.

And Draco? He was going to do this all himself.

Though he was one to love manipulating people, the Potter didn't deserve such _grace_

Potter deserved hell, and he was going to get it.

Draco didn't know if he was going to kill the boy; it really didn't matter.

He had killed before. Sad but true.

He _is _a servant of a powerful lord, after all. Stupid lord....Draco didn't _want _to be this slave; he was forced too.

Ooh, maybe he would put the mark on Potter.

That would sure as hell ruin his Ego.

Potter working with the Dark Lord to conquer evil, wouldn't that be wonderful?

No, what would be wonderful would be for me to actually be able to put my thick cock in Neville's tight, hot arse by next week. Now _that_, would be wonderful!

Draco sighed.

He watched as Harry got out of his seat, already finishing dinner.

He winked and grinned broadly at the younger Malfoy before disappearing.

Draco smirked back. Payback time.

He followed Potter out the door, to where he cornered the boy.

Harry tried to scream for help but Draco broke his jaw.

Harry tried to run, but Draco fractured his left ankle, and busted his right knee cap.

Harry tried to push Draco off, but he ended up with one dislocated arm, and one feeling like jelly as it had no bones.

Harry tried to hold back his tears, but Draco slapped him multiple times and caused him two black eyes and many teeth to fly out his mouth.

And, just for a little fun, Draco broke eight ribs.

And then, he slowly made his way to Madame Pomfrey and said innocently

"Harry Potter just got beat up!"

And what did Harry learn from this whole charade?

Don't mess with Draco's Possession.

***End of Flashback***

**END**


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